Your Favorite Hello
by TheMourningMadam
Summary: So...can a witch and a wizard just be friends? Hermione and Draco seem to think so. A lighthearted short story of two people falling together.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: The bold print below is text messages. Underlined her. Italicized him.

Chapter 1:

" **He's unbearable** **."**

Hermione Granger sat across from Garrett Munden at Aldo's Ristorante. She had agreed to a date with him when they'd passed in the atrium at the Ministry. She had her mobile phone under the table and had just sent the text message. Normally she wouldn't have been so rude as to fiddle with her mobile while out with someone, but she was growing bored and weary of these casual dates she'd been going on.

" _ **Do you need me to rescue you?"**_ her phone dinged.

She fought to stifle a laugh and looked up at Garrett, who was talking so much he didn't even noticed that Hermione's eyes had glazed over and she was blatantly ignoring him. **"** **Yes.** **"**

Hermione only half-listened as her date droned on about his favorite quidditch player. He was decent looking—sandy blond hair and green eyes set into a boyishly charming face—and had always been pleasant enough to talk to when their paths crossed. But he lacked any real substance. For the last hour he'd spoken of the sport and she was finding herself testing her capability to tune out the mindless chatter as she had years ago in school when Harry, Ron and Ginny had started in.

A few moments later, her phone began to buzz and she put up one finger. "Garrett, I have to take this—work."

She made a show of leaning over and answering the phone. _"—we need to revise this report, it's to be presented Monday and we need to go over it with a fine-toothed comb. We're missing an entire section—"_ came a deep, velvety voice.

"I'll be right there," she told him, pretending to be woeful as she looked back at Garrett. "I'm so sorry to cut this short. Work beckons, you know?" she gestured to the phone she'd just turned off.

Her date nodded, looking genuinely upset that she'd have to leave and she nearly snorted in disgust. She hadn't said five words all night. She pulled a couple of galleons from her bag and dropped them in the center of the table. "See you Monday."

"Did you want me to take you home?" he asked.

She shook her head and waved her hand nonchalantly. "That won't be necessary."

Hermione left the restaurant with a quickness and once outside in the cool air, took a deep breath. **"Can I come over?"**

She began walking in the direction of the closest apparation spot, knowing his response even before her phone buzzed. _**"I've already popped open the merlot."**_

Hermione smiled and apparated away from Hogsmeade. She landed in front of his door and it opened as she lifted her hand to knock. And there in the doorway, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed, was her best friend of nearly five years. His aristocratic features were formed into a deep, amused smirk. Hermione threw her head back and groaned before dropping her forehead to his chest. "These wizards are incredibly dull," she mumbled into the fabric of his shirt as he patted her shoulders.

"Come on in," Draco said, moving out of the door and guiding her in with a hand between the shoulders.

Hermione would be the first to admit that her friendship with Draco Malfoy was unconventional, to say the very least. Neither could explain it. There hadn't been some tumultuous, rocky start to their friendship during an "eighth year" at Hogwarts. The two had hit it off famously. Draco had apologized for every wrong he'd ever committed against her and they'd worked compatibly with one another as Heads. At first their two, very different, very _distinct_ , sets of friends were up in arms. And while they tended to stay separate, everyone had grown to accept the friendship between Hogwarts' top students.

Their friendship had really grown and blossomed after they left school. After graduation, they both landed positions at within the Ministry, Hermione in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and Draco in the Offense of Creatures Division of the Auror's Department. The two worked closely together on many tough cases, bringing dark wizards to justice swiftly and with combined effort.

All of this combined to create a strong, unwavering friendship between the two. When either of them was having a problem, they ran to the other. When something fantastic happened, a text message and congratulatory bottle of wine was exchanged between the two first before anyone else found out.

Hermione moved into the familiar space, kicking off her heels as she made her way to the couch. She pulled the clip from her hair and her elegant coif came undone and her curls framed her face wildly. Draco raised an eyebrow and smirked once more, handing her a glass of her favorite elf wine. He sat on the end of the couch and tapped his thigh. Hermione leaned back against the opposite arm of the couch and put her feet in his lap. He took one foot into his hand and began kneading the knots out. "What was wrong with this one?" he asked, watching as she took a sip of wine.

"Don't say it like that," she complained with a groan.

"Like what?" he asked, his tone far too amused for Hermione's liking.

"Like I'm just being picky and shuffling through blokes," she retorted.

"Well…you do seem to be on the hunt for something very specific. What, no one knows. Apparently, not even you," he told her, earning himself a toe to the gut.

He laughed and pinched her foot. "I can't help it if I have no desire to hear a man drone on and on _and on_ about the Falmouth bloody Falcons' new Seeker, Greer Barkley—" she began.

"Bantley," Draco corrected.

" _Whatever,"_ she replied, rolling her eyes.

"I'm simply saying, if he talked for an hour about the new Seeker, one would think that you would have at least picked up the man's proper name," he teased, grabbing the wine bottle and refilling their glasses.

"There is more to life than _quidditch_ ," she complained.

"Not everyone is going to be able to keep up a conversation about seventeenth century French literature, Hermione," he tried to reason, applying enough pressure to the sole of her foot to illicit a moan from her.

"You can," she mentioned, turning her bottom lip out into a pout.

"I'm an exceptional man," he shrugged.

Hermione laughed and nudged him again. "And so modest, too."

"Modesty _is_ one of my finer qualities."

She sighed and set her glass on the coffee table. Draco summoned a blanket from the chest that sat alongside his couch and handed it to her. She wrapped her hands into it and brought it up to her chin, hugging the edge to herself. "What about you?" she asked him.

"What about me?" he countered, continuing his ministrations as he worked his way up her ankle to her lower calf.

"How did your date with Hannah Abbott go?" she asked, almost certain she knew the answer.

Draco let out his own sigh. He'd agreed to a date with her at Neville's bequest. "I can definitely see why she and Neville dated once. She's about as interesting as a damp postage stamp."

"That's not very nice, Draco. She's a sweet girl," Hermione chided, giving her friend a mock glare.

"Yeah. So sweet she lacks any passion or… _personality_ ," he replied.

Hermione swatted his arm with the back of her hand. Draco let out a laugh before putting his hand back on the couch and closing his eyes once more. "Dating is for the hippogriffs, Hermione. I mean, really. The dating pool in wizarding England is more like a rain puddle in the hot July sun."

Hermione couldn't agree more. She was certain she'd been on fifty different dates that year and each one ended with her being less than satisfied. Of the fifty, she may have kissed ten, and of the ten, she had slept with two—to less than spectacular results. She knew Draco had gone home with far more witches than that this year, but he seemed just as displeased after every one. His longest relationship since the War had lasted six months, four years prior, with Astoria Greengrass. Hers a year, during their joint eighth year, with Ron Weasley. And so began their long drought, endlessly revolving doors of bad dates and dull conversations.

"What do you say, next weekend, we each choose a date for one another and we can go on a double date?" he suggested, not bothering to open his eyes.

Hermione put her arm over her eyes and groaned dramatically. "Why should I let you select a wizard for me?"

"Because clearly you are doing a piss poor job of selecting for yourself, love," he told her with a laugh. "And you can choose a witch for me. I trust your judgment," he added, making a point of emphasizing _your._

"And if I agree? What if I fall madly in love with him?" she teased, her head feeling fuzzy and her body warm from the alcohol.

"Then I expect you to select a maid-of-honor dress that compliments the grey of my eyes."

o-o-o

A/N: And so begins another short story. Not too many chapters—maybe less than ten.

Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

"Blaise Zabini? Really Draco?" Hermione asked him as they shopped together for something to wear on their double date.

He had finally cracked and told her who she would be attending dinner with that evening. "What's wrong with Blaise? He's a charming, good looking and intelligent wizard. He is independently wealthy, beyond his mother's money. He's been scorned and he's just about seen the rest of England's eligible witches."

"So why don't _you_ go on the date with him?" Hermione replied exasperatedly.

"I haven't given up enough hope in finding a woman to test the penis filled waters just yet, thanks," Draco told her, rolling his eyes and lifting a navy-blue dress up to look at the quality of its stitching. "Plenty of muggle women when I finally run out of witches."

He held the dress out, looking at the color against her skin tone. She swatted him away. "He's been your friend forever. Tell me why he would even agree to go out with me? We've never seen eye-to-eye."

Draco shrugged, handing the dress to a nearby waiting attendant. "She'll be trying this one on," he told the young woman, who was staring at him as though she'd never seen something so breathtaking in her life.

"I don't want to try a bunch of dresses on," she said, nearly stomping her foot.

"Then try that one on. You would look stunning in it. Perhaps tame that nest of snakes you call curls into a pretty knot," he told her, exasperated with her attitude.

Hermione glared at him and he shrugged and smirked. "I'm teasing, love. And exactly which witch did you select for me?" he asked curiously, moving through the doorway and into the men's half of the clothier.

Hermione looked down at a row of silk ties displayed handsomely next to where Draco was walking toward dress shirts. "Luna Lovegood."

Draco spun around and groaned. "Lovegood? She positively barmy! What on earth do you expect me to talk to her about? Nargle infestations in her neighbors' flower beds?"

She gave him a look. "Luna is a bright witch, and her…eccentricities make her that much more charming."

"Charming," he scoffed, running his fingers over a gorgeous set of cashmere black robes. "She's certifiably insane."

Hermione glared at him as he walked to where she stood. He selected a navy-blue tie, one that nearly matched her dress. "This will look good with my grey suit," he commented.

Draco often opted to dress more like a muggle these days, enjoying a few of the muggles' finer things—handsome suits, cell phones, the food. Hermione was proud to say that she'd rubbed off on him. "You just want to match. Claim me for your own," she teased and she could have sworn the silver of his eyes darkened to a lovely shade of storm cloud.

"Go try the dress on," he instructed, turning her around and pushing her toward the dressing room.

Hermione sighed and entered the dressing room, knowing full well that he would be waiting for her to show off the find. She slipped her clothing off and pulled the dress on, retrieving her wand to magic the buttons together in the back. Both the front and back were cut into deep 'v' shapes and her modest cleavage was just visible in the front. It had sleeves of lace that fell to just below her elbows and flared out and was swishy from her hips to where it fell just below her knees.

Draco always had a knack for selecting items for her that would look great, which was one reason she only protested half-heartedly whenever he suggested shopping. He was more agreeable than Ginny, usually selected one or two items for her to choose from and was always spot on, and he never allowed her to pay for her own purchases—a fact she'd been hard pressed to accept initially.

She twirled and watched the dress swish about her knees. "How does it look?" he asked lazily from the other side of the door.

For some reason Hermione felt as though she didn't want to show him this particular dress while still in the store. She would rather he see her when she had her hair and face primped as well. "I like it."

"Well, let's see it then," he replied.

"Later," she told him, undressing and redressing quickly.

She exited and handed the dress to the attendant and Draco pouted. "I wanted to see just how good my taste is."

o-o-o

Hermione gave herself a once over, butterflies battling just below her diaphragm. She over-analyzed the sliver of her breasts visible in the low-cut dress, nearly removed all of her cosmetics, had restyled her hair three times before settling on the elegant twist she currently sported. She chalked it up to being nervous about her date with one of Draco's best mates.

She decided to get away from the mirror before she continued ripping every aspect of her look apart. She knew she looked fine, better than she had for her date with Garrett. She took a deep breath and apparated to the restaurant.

Hermione landed and Draco and Blaise were already standing out front, waiting for their respective dates. Blaise looked round Draco's shoulder, his face breaking into a wide smile. Draco whirled around to see what had grabbed Blaise's attention and Hermione watched his lips part slightly. He closed his mouth quickly and smiled slightly, watching as Blaise stepped around him and walked up to Hermione. Blaise handed her a single red rose, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Granger. It's nice to see you again."

"Blaise," she nodded in his direction, feeling incredibly strange.

Draco was still standing in the background, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a bouquet of what appeared to be pink cymbidium orchids and white roses. He was staring now at the ground before him, a slight frown gracing his features. Hermione knew that look—he was disappointed. But in what? She smoothed a hand over the skirt of her dress. Did he hate it?

She was getting ready to walk up to him and straighten his tie when Luna apparated between them. "Oh, hello, Hermione," she said demurely, giving Hermione a large smile and a hug.

Hermione silently thanked Merlin that Luna had opted for something muted and normal to wear—a turquoise dress with white strappy sandals that climbed up her calves and her hair pulled into French plait. Hermione gestured behind Luna and Draco plastered what Hermione knew to be a fake smile on his face. "Miss Lovegood. You look positively radiant this evening," he told the blond, leaning in to kiss her cheek just as Blaise had done to Hermione.

Blaise came up behind his date and put a hand on her lower back, guiding her toward the entrance to the restaurant. "I really think you'll all enjoy this. Best French cuisine in all of wizarding England," Blaise told the group collectively.

Hermione could feel Blaise's warm fingertips brush against her bare back where the low-cut dress came together and buttoned. For some reason she couldn't quite pinpoint, it felt all wrong. She allowed herself to be led, just as Luna did, to a private area of the restaurant in the back corner. Blaise pulled her chair out and Draco did the same for Luna. It was the first tandem date she'd gone on and it was strange to watch both pureblooded men go through the motions. Hermione had never witnessed Draco on a date, but thus far, he was dashing and charming.

Blaise ordered wine for the table and took his seat next to Hermione. Draco was across from her and Luna across from Blaise, a move Draco seemed to have planned. Blaise turned to her and leaned in close. "So, tell me, Granger, what made you agree to see me tonight?" he asked, curious.

"I suppose the same thing that brought you here. Sheer desperation," she replied, taking a sip of wine.

Blaise let out a laugh and nodded. "Fair enough. What about you, Luna? Why on earth would you want to see Draco?"

Draco leaned back in his chair, running a single fingertip over the rim of his glass. Luna smiled at him and he placed a hand on her shoulders and rested his arm on the back of her chair, giving her a wink. "Well…I hadn't ever had much interaction with him. But Hermione assures me he is quite the gentleman and I'm not opposed to giving anyone a chance."

"Things not go well with Neville, then?" Blaise asked and Draco glared at his friend's audacity.

But Luna was unfazed. "No. He's a sweet man, truly. But there wasn't enough chemistry between us. I want bright fireworks to go off in my head, you know?"

Blaise smiled widely at her. "I do. I couldn't agree more."

Hermione watched the interaction between the two and it became rapidly clear that they were more interested in each other than Draco and Hermione. Draco stretched his legs a little father under the table, tapping the toe of her heel with his foot. Hermione looked over at him and he smirked, taking a sip of his wine. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and turned to Blaise. "So, tell me, Blaise. How is it at St. Mungo's?" she asked, purposely turning to him a little more.

Draco stared at her over the rim of his wine glass, his eyes narrowing as she brought a hand up and put it on Blaise's arm. The Italian smiled over at her, his green eyes sparkling brightly against his mocha skin. "I would say things are going very well. The team of Healers I'm working with to create this sunlight welcoming draught for vampires—they're absolutely brilliant."

"Is that so?" Hermione asked, smiling at Blaise brightly.

"Luna, do tell us more about what you've been up to," Draco said, smiling widely at his date.

"Well. I just got back from Madagascar. I was there studying the fizzling jungle flies, you know," she told him, clearly proud of herself.

"I saw the write up in _The Quibbler_ ," Blaise mentioned.

"You read _The Quibbler_?" Luna asked him excitedly.

"Oh. Every month. It's nice to just get away from the more somber stories of the _Prophet_ , you know?" he asked and Draco raised an eyebrow.

Hermione looked to her blond best friend once more. Draco had a terse set to his jaw as everyone ordered their food. She ran the toe of her heel over his clothed calf. He looked to her, training his eyes on hers and raised an eyebrow. Hermione used one finger and subtly gestured between Blaise and Luna. Draco nodded. They'd mucked this up royally. Their dates were more interested in one another than in them.

They ate, a cordial and interesting conversation settling over the table about Blaise's recent travels to France. At the end of their dinner, Luna cleared her throat. "I hate to be a bore. But I do need to wake early tomorrow. I'm headed to Beijing in search of the illusive azure mini dragon."

Blaise rose as well. "I've got to head out, too. Would you like me to walk you out?"

"That would be lovely, Blaise," she replied.

Draco stood and retrieved her coat, helping her into it. He leaned in and kissed her cheek as Blaise thanked Hermione for a lovely time. The two bid Draco and Hermione adieu and the friends looked at each other and laughed. "You want to split a piece of cheesecake?" he asked, pouring the rest of the wine into her glass.

"Have you ever known me to turn down sweets?" she replied, rubbing her temples.

He ordered and turned back to her, frowning. "This was not one of my better ideas."

"How were you supposed to know our dates would like each other more than us?" Hermione asked him.

Their dessert was brought to the table and Draco moved to sit next to her instead of across to share it. He leaned on the table, placing his head on his hand and took a bite. "I know you like the crust," he mentioned, turning the widest part toward her so she could have the crumbly bits.

"Honestly, Draco. This is getting ridiculous. I think I'm just going to go celibate and stave off men completely," she told him, noticing the way his lips formed around the fork as he drew it from his mouth.

He pointed his fork at her as he chewed and contemplated his words. "You might be on to something there."

She laughed. "Are we agreeing to a celibacy pact?" she teased, giving him a grin.

Draco shrugged, returning her smile with one of his own. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. You never know—the right wizard might sweep you off your feet one day."

o-o-o

 _Please review!_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

"I just need my caffeine fix for the day and maybe I'll be able to get my brain kicked into gear," Hermione groaned as she and Draco walked the streets of London toward the Ministry.

They could easily floo into work, sure, but the two had agreed to meet and walk on mornings that it wasn't raining. It was a few minutes they could share together, basking in the rare good weather. Draco rolled his eyes at her dramatics but grinned as he pointed her into their favorite muggle coffee shop.

"Or, perhaps, you could maybe _not_ stay up all hours of the night reading your latest purchase?" he suggested sweetly.

"Oh, hush, you," she told him, elbowing him gently.

As they waited in the queue to order, he noticed a tall, dark-haired gentleman eyeing Hermione from across the small store. Hermione was oblivious to it, as she usually was. But Draco certainly noticed the man's gaze lingering on his best friend. He felt a surge of something unfamiliar—anger? He had the urge to place a protective hand on her lower back, and when he did she looked up at him, confused.

"That man is giving you a look," Draco told her and he nodded subtly in the man's direction.

Hermione, ever the picture of subtlety, turned her head quickly to eye the man in question. It was in that moment that Draco realized the attraction was mutual. Hermione's eyes flashed and her cheeks flushed ever so slightly. "Order my usual," she whispered to Draco and she smoothed a hand over her dress and squared her shoulders before waltzing over to where the man sat, sipping his coffee.

Draco faced forward but watched the scene unfold from the corner of his eye. He didn't understand the deep burning he felt in his chest at that moment, as though a massive hippogriff was standing on him and doing a little jig. Hermione was his best friend and he wanted nothing more than for her to be happy. He knew she went out with men, obviously—he "saved" her on more than one occasion, he'd set her up with a few and gone out on a double date just a few weeks prior. But he hadn't had much experience in watching her flirt and interact. It felt all wrong to him.

He ordered their usual and then stepped in behind Hermione, handing her the paper takeaway cup. She smiled up at him. "Oh, Draco! This is Gerard, he was just telling me he's a doctor over at the hospital. Isn't that just fascinating?" she said, her voice a smitten high pitch.

"Good to meet you, Gerard. Hermione, we need to be going or we're going to be late," he told her, trying to keep his voice even.

Hermione retrieved an ink pen from within her coat pocket and gestured for Gerard's hand. "Call or text me sometime," she told him, writing her telephone number on his hand.

The man—who was entirely too tall, dark, handsome and mysterious for his own good—gave Hermione a dashing smile that made Draco want to drive his fist right through those pearly white teeth. "Sure thing. A pleasure to meet you, Hermione."

He kissed her hand and watched as Draco followed Hermione out of the coffee shop. Draco shot him a glare behind her back and they stepped out into the crowded London streets once more. _Gerard. What a stupid name. To go with a stupid man…no, decidedly not stupid—he's a muggle doctor._ Draco's thoughts were scattered, that aching in his chest growing with every step closer to the Ministry.

Hermione was smiling dreamily, swinging her handbag giddily. He hated that another man was the one to bring that far-away look to her eyes. What had this man done that Draco hadn't done time and again? He told her all the time that she was beautiful. He listened to her as she cried, celebrated her victories, poured over hours upon hours of cases their two departments collaborated on. She was the first person he said good morning to and the last he wished goodnight. So why not him?

That thought surprised him. When had he began thinking he could be with her in that capacity? When had he started thinking of her as a female prospect instead of a female friend? He looked down at her as they walked and he felt that deep aching burn in his heart soften to a quick flutter, heat creeping up his neck.

That deep aching burn was jealousy. Draco Malfoy was totally in love with Hermione Granger.

o-o-o

Hermione walked to Draco's office, intent on taking him to lunch. That morning had been full of boring meetings and agitating run-ins with her closest office competition, Walter. She needed a sympathetic ear and the soothing voice of her best friend, and one of those giant café sandwiches that the two of them couldn't finish.

As she rounded the corner, she heard a female voice filtering from his open office door. "…you should wear your hair over your face a little. It looks handsome falling toward those stunning eyes…"

Hermione peeked into the door and Astoria Greengrass was perched on his desk, her legs crossed in such a manner that she was giving him a very clear view up her skirt as he sat in his desk chair before her, her heeled foot resting on the chair between his knees. She was combing her fingers through his fringe, pulling the hair from his normally perfect coif and draping it over his forehead in a way Hermione knew for a fact he hated. _She doesn't know him at all—how dare she put her hands on him?_

Who was Hermione to be possessive over Draco? She tried to tell herself that she simply felt that way because she didn't want him hurt. But there was an underlying fire coursing through her chest as Astoria's giggles reverberated through her brain. The look he was giving her ripped through Hermione, as he smiled up at Astoria and ran a finger over her way-too-shiny and smooth calf as she gave him a simpering laugh and trickled her fingertips over his jaw.

Hermione felt her heart begin to break dangerously in her chest. Their double date hadn't been serious—they both knew it. But he was genuinely looking at the charming witch with appreciation and she felt inferior.

She had no right to feel this way—she wondered silently when she first had. He was her best friend and had been for years now. She knew things about him that no one in this world did—not Theodore Nott, not Blaise Zabini, not Pansy Parkinson, not Narcissa Malfoy. She had helped him after the war, when he was racked with nightmares and didn't fit in any longer. He'd listened as she cried to him when Ron let her have it over their friendship, and then he'd threatened Ron into an apology. He had more enthusiasm and pride in her when something great happened in her life than even her own parents had. She looked forward to his throaty good morning calls at promptly seven as she made her morning tea and he stretched in bed. And his good night text messages—which arrived every night at nine on the nose, no matter if he was out with someone or sitting in his library.

When had Draco Malfoy slipped from her best friend straight into her heart? When had he become the only thing she could think about? As she watched Astoria leaning forward, still playing with his hair and messing it in a way that she only wished her own fists could do, a sob caught in her throat. When had she started crying?

And _when_ had she fallen in love with Draco Malfoy?

o-o-o

A choking noise caught Draco's attention and his eyes shot to the open door. A puff of curly hair disappeared and he knew instinctively that something was wrong with Hermione. He pushed Astoria's leg away from him and stood, excusing himself and ignoring the witch's whiny protests. He went out into the corridor and looked for her petite frame as others began to file out and make their way to lunch. He didn't see her slight build, mass of curls or quick gait among any of his colleagues.

 _Fuck._ What had upset her? Why had she come to his office crying? He would _kill_ Walter if he'd made her cry with his biting comments and stupidly competitive nature. And why had she run? He was merely speaking with the Greengrass girl, perhaps flirting a little. But he hadn't done anything more than she had with _Gerard_ earlier that morning, had he? And Hermione hadn't ever given him any indication that she felt the same way. Hell, _he_ hadn't had any indication until earlier that morning that _he_ felt that way about her.

He searched for her throughout lunch, asking everyone he came into contact with if they'd seen her. No one had and he began to worry. It was only after his tenth, " _ **I'm worried about you. Please call me,"**_ text that she finally responded.

" **I'm fine. Had to meet with the boss over lunch. Meet you at the floo."**

Draco read and reread her text message three times before putting his mobile in his pocket. He settled into a right foul mood and snapped at anyone stupid enough to walk into his office for the rest of the day. What was she going through? Why was she so short with him? Most importantly, why was she lying? He'd inquired about her whereabouts from her boss, Melvin Thorogood, earlier that afternoon. Hermione never lied to him.

At five minutes to five, Draco snatched up his briefcase and his cloak and strode to the floo network. He tried desperately to cling to his anger and frustration with her, but as soon as she came into his view, looking bright and healthy and happy once more, he felt that anger melt away. Perhaps he had overreacted.

"Hey. Everything okay?" he asked her.

"Splendid. I have a date with Gerard tonight!" she beamed brightly.

Draco felt that heat in his chest flare up once more as he forced a smile onto his features, wondering where the hell her vow of celibacy had gotten off to. "I knew he was eyeing you this morning."

"I've been texting him back and forth—he's actually quite funny. Wish me luck, and don't wait up!"

A sinking, dismal feeling settled over him as he watched Hermione step into the floo and say her own address. He stepped in after her and mumbled his address crossly, feeling the old urge to hex someone flare up inside of him. Someone like that smug muggle doctor.

o-o-o

Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Caprubia has a habit of fanfictioning my fanfictions. She told me she'd had a Dramione dream with regards to the scene that unfolds in this chapter and that it fit Hello's Dramione more than just a simple one-shot could have conveyed. So, this chapter was mainly written by Caprubia (like seventy-five percent) so she could get this off her chest. Thank you, my lovely!_

Chapter 4:

" _ **Are you busy?"**_

Draco stared at his mobile, waiting for a reply. Even this late at night, they never ignored each other in the past. He felt his groin twitch as he involuntarily pictured her in pajamas while lazily reading a book in bed. It had been a long day at the office and Hermione had been avoiding him for almost two weeks. Yes, their lines of communication had remained open and she replied to every memo, text, or voicemail promptly. But in writing, her conversations were clipped and Draco knew something was off.

For his part, Draco had been brooding all week. She'd gone out with the Muggle Wonder regularly in the past two weeks. Ever since she'd run from his office sobbing—though she'd adamantly denied that she'd been crying—she'd made herself scarce. Without his witty, intelligent and beautiful sidekick, Draco felt empty and alone. They hadn't had a single night to themselves where they shared dinner or watched one of those sappy Muggle movies that always made Hermione weep into her ice cream as he sat on the end of the couch and pretended to be unaffected. And, blast it all, he missed her.

Hermione's account of her dates with Gerard were summed up with, "Good, he's been a gentleman." For that, he was grateful because he didn't think that he could tolerate hearing her celebrate his virtues. Draco's overactive imagination already plagued him with a dream in which she asked him to walk her down the aisle, in lieu of her father, to marry the dastardly doctor.

Their usual barista had noticed Hermione's absence and commented on Draco's solo attendance. Hermione blamed it on needing to surpass Walter on a project and prove her value in the department, so she had been going to work early and leaving late. That didn't stop Draco from dropping off either a fresh pain au chocolat or a triple chocolate muffin each morning.

He itched to talk with her properly like the best friends they claimed to be. Irritated that Hermione hadn't responded yet, he grabbed the red wine he opened and aerated a few hours earlier.

 _ **"I've got wine and I'm coming over."**_

The lights were on in Hermione's living room when Draco stepped out of her fireplace. He swirled the wine and absentmindedly hoped that ash hadn't fallen into the crystal decanter. Draco toed off his shoes as he waited for Hermione to show up. There was no evidence that Hermione had returned home yet. Her coat and purse were both absent from the chair where she routinely deposited both at the end of a day.

"Where are you?" Draco asked the empty room as he walked into the kitchen for a pair of wine glasses.

 _ **"I'm at your flat, where are you?"**_

A sound down the hall made his blood freeze. Draco's irritation washed away and was replaced with a sense of dread as he heard Hermione's muffled yell. It had been years since he heard her voice filled with panic. His hands shook and the glasses slipped, spilling wine, and shattered everywhere on the hardwood floor. Wand out, Draco stalked down the corridor swiftly but quietly.

Hermione's purse was scattered in the middle of the hallway, confirming Draco's worst fear. Here he had been so wrapped up in his hurt feelings and their strained friendship that he didn't do a basic check of the other rooms. How long had he been there? Five minutes? Ten? He knew better than most that every moment counted during an attack.

Draco stood at Hermione's study. The door was slightly ajar and he could hear her gasping for air. Luckily, he had the element of surprise on his side and he was going to hex anyone in the room that wasn't Hermione.

On the other side of a large arm chair, Hermione was writhing on the floor. Her hair was half pulled out of her plait and buttons were missing from her blouse, partially exposing her chest. Draco's vision blurred as the memory of her pinned on the floor in the Manor came forward in his mind.

He inhaled deeply and took two steps into the room to get a better view, ready to destroy his target.

That's when Draco realized his mistake.

Hermione wasn't being crucio'd. Attached to her lower half was the naked back of a man with his head covered by her skirt. Hermione wasn't being tortured. Draco walked in on her date going down on her.

 _Gerard, that fucker_ , Draco mentally seethed.

It looked like the couple failed to make it to the nearby furniture and settled on the floor instead. Hermione's left leg was hooked around the man's back with her hands gripping his shoulders. Based on her face, she was experiencing a wave a pleasure. Her whole body tensed and she arched her back into him. Draco couldn't tear his eyes from Hermione when her shirt fell open more, fully exposing her perfect breasts in a light pink lacy bra.

Draco felt both rage and desire coursing through his body. Watching Hermione's face, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, form her lips into a perfect silent 'oh' caused his cock to jump to full attention. Her eyes were closed – head tilted back – concentrating on achieving a climax. If Draco didn't leave soon, he was going to tear the arms off of the muggle.

"Stop cheating," Hermione said with a breathy giggle and she slapped her suitor's hand from touching her breasts. He let out a deep laugh which only caused her to buck her hips into him more.

 _I need to leave. Get out, get out, get out_ , Draco told himself as Hermione was on the edge of an orgasm. He knew that if he wanted to keep their friendship intact, he had to move his feet fast. But he was frozen in place with his wand fully raised and alert. Her skirt slipped up to her stomach and her smooth thighs were completely on display. Draco's future fantasies were going to be fueled by her hypnotic moans and the sensual curve of her bare bottom. Suddenly, Hermione became louder and her body started to shake.

"Yes, yes. Oh my god, I'm so…" Hermione moaned as she hit her peak, writhing in ecstasy, "Theo..."

A look of horror crossed his face when he noticed that the man nestled between her thighs had a lighter shade of brown hair and broader shoulders. Somehow this was worse than walking in on her with the muggle doctor.

"Theo?" slipped out of Draco's mouth. Hermione opened her eyes and saw him standing there like a voyeur. Theo Nott looked up from between Hermione's legs and frowned at Draco.

Before either said a word to him, he turned on his heel and fled the room. Unfortunately, Hermione was right behind him and caught him before he reached the fireplace.

"Draco, what was that?" Hermione said as she grabbed his arm to stop him.

"I texted. I missed our talks so I brought wine," he said gesturing towards the decanter on the counter. "You yelled and I thought… I thought you were being attacked. The last time I saw you writhing on the floor, it was because of an unforgivable curse."

"Me coming with Theo looks the same as when I was being tortured by your aunt?" Hermione said slowly.

"Yes! No. Not like that. I didn't plan on seeing that," Draco stuttered.

Before Draco had a chance to explain himself, Theo strolled into the room fully dressed.

"I'm hurt that you tried to set Hermione up with Blaise and not me," Theo grinned as he held up a pair of pink knickers.

"And I'm taking these to settle our bet," Theo winked at Hermione as he teetered into her floo and vanished in a puff of smoke.

"Bet?" Draco spun to look at Hermione who was covering her face with her hands, sheer mortification evident.

"After a few drinks, Theo made a bet that he could make me orgasm using only his mouth. No hands allowed," she muttered through her hands. Hermione was pacing the living room as she started her story. _That explains why she swatted away his hands_ , Draco thought absently.

"You were sloshed," Draco deadpanned.

"I was barely tipsy. I didn't drink as much as Theo!" Hermione countered. "He's married!"

"What? Theo's not married."

"Gerard. Tonight's date was an absolute disaster. Someone from the hospital recognized Gerard and that's when I found out he was married," Hermione said as she nervously started fiddling with her hair and freed it from the disheveled plait.

"Theo was there at the same restaurant," Hermione continued talking but stood still, chin up looking right at Draco, "his date didn't show and he stepped in. Afterwards we went out for a few drinks. I had two. Don't blame my choice on alcohol."

"So, you took Theo home instead of coming to me?" Draco asked in a strained voice while crossing the room to stand inches away from Hermione. He vaguely recognized the double entendre of the question but was acutely aware that she was still starkers under her skirt.

The duo were both breathing hard and Draco could feel her breath against his skin. He searched her face. Her eyes were fiery, cheeks flushed, and her hair set free. The swell of Hermione's breasts rose with each deep breath, her shirt still open and revealing flesh. She looked as though she had been thoroughly fucked more at this point than she did earlier and it took everything in Draco's power not to thread his fingers through her hair.

"I can't have this conversation with you right now," Hermione backed up and Draco matched each of her steps. 

"Which conversation, Hermione? How you're ignoring me? Or how, if I'd shown up five minutes later, you would've been fucking my oldest friend?"

"One moment you're setting me up with your friends and the next you're angry that I decided to fuck one. What do you want, Draco?" 

In order to create space between Draco and herself, Hermione took one more step back. Her foot landed on the broken wine glasses and she slipped on the puddle of wine. Reflexively, she put her hand down to stop her fall but ended up with shards in her hand, as well as one in her thigh, and one in her foot.

"Oh, no! Oh, Merlin!" Hermione gasped at her bloodied hands, shards of glass sticking out of her palms.

"Calm down, it's alright. Let me get you fixed up," Draco pulled out his wand and dropped down to his knees. He muttered a cleaning spell so he wouldn't tread on the glass while in his socks. "I'm sorry, I forgot that I dropped the glasses."

"I don't mind other's blood, but seeing my own makes me a little woozy," Hermione said thickly, close to tears.

In one quick motion, Draco scooped her up bridal style – one arm around her back and the other under her knees. He was careful to avoid touching the injured areas and delicately deposited her on the sofa. He knelt next to her while he worked on the injuries. With a tea towel and the first aid kit, he was able to disinfect the wounds and removed the glass in her foot and hand. A simple episkey knit the skin back together.

"Your leg wound," Draco said softly.

"I'm not wearing knickers," Hermione reminded him quietly.

"I know. I won't look," Draco blushed as he tried not to remember her earlier state.

"I trust you."

The wound was smaller than the one in her hand. He was able to tend to it quickly and since it was on the outside of her leg, there was no risk of seeing anything. This was his best friend. His confidant. He wasn't about to betray her trust by making her feel uncomfortable with his touch. 

Once he was finished, Draco brought her formerly hurt palm to his lips. "There we go, good as new," he said with a smile.

Hermione smiled and waved her foot. "Oh, does that need a kiss too?" he teased.

"How else will we know if it's okay if you don't kiss it better?" Hermione quipped. Draco grinned and gave her foot a quick peck.

His smile faded when he saw Hermione's intense gaze. She slowly pulled up the side of her skirt.

"And here?" she whispered in a hoarse voice.

Draco glanced down and back up to her eyes – questioning the overtones of her action. Hermione gave him a slight nod. He leaned down and brushed his lips against the side of her thigh. As soon as he made contact, her fingers were threading his hair.

" _Hermione_ ," he groaned against her leg. Instead of pulling back, he kissed her thigh again but this time letting his teeth graze her skin. She responded by sighing and lightly dragging her fingernails against his scalp.

"You asked me what I want," Draco said softly, pulling away from her completely. 

"I did."

" _You, Hermione_. I want you…but not like this. Not when my best mates' saliva is still…" he waved an embarrassed hand toward her skirt.

Hermione bristled and sat up, shoving her skirt as far down as it would extend. "I feel so… _wanton_."

He furrowed his brow and dragged a single fingertip across her jaw and down her neck to where her cleavage was still exposed in all of its glory. "Don't apologize for your sexuality. You're a grown woman and you can do _whomever_ you want…but…perhaps we can discuss your future encounters being with a more…suitable mate?"

"Have someone in mind?" she asked him, her voice raspy.

He opened his mouth to speak, to try and say something snarky or witty. But, instead, he felt bile rise at the back of his throat and he swallowed hard to push it down. Hermione stood and pulled her blouse shut, nervously smoothing her clothing and then her hair as he looked at her. "I'm sorry, Draco. For everything. I've really mucked this all up, haven't I?"

"Mucked what up?"

"This," she gestured between them, "with you."

Draco felt a pang in his chest. Hermione was a grown woman and he had no claim over her. Perhaps if he had just stormed into her living room the night she'd first intended to go out with Gerard, they wouldn't be in the mess they currently found themselves. He knew he wanted the saucy little witch before him—his groin twitched achingly as her moan echoed in his ears. Oh, how he wished he could elicit those same noises from her. And he wanted more than just that amazing figure—he wanted her for her intellect, her humor, her companionship, the comfort she brought him. But he needed to mull things over, try to formulate a plan of some kind on how to get them back to where they were and how to progress them forward after this disastrous evening.

He leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I'll come past in the morning. I'll make brunch. We can talk after I've had time to digest everything that's happened tonight."

She looked up at him, biting her bottom lip to keep it from quivering and gave him one curt nod. "Okay. I'll see you then."

Draco stepped into the fireplace, forgetting his shoes, and gave her a small smile. "There's a decanter with some of the finest red wine left. Enjoy it," he commented before speaking his address with a saddened determination.

o-o-o

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